


Interval

by jdjunkie



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Comment Fic, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 10:34:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3974908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdjunkie/pseuds/jdjunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had all been said -- in bed as they loved, over late-night pizza, in seemingly light-hearted exchanges about the romance of long-distance relationships.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interval

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2010 to the prompt, "They had nothing to say to each other."

So. This was the day. The day when everything would change and nothing would change. When Jack would board a flight for D.C. and take Daniel's heart along for the ride, and what was left of Daniel would go on as if nothing had happened.  
  
As he cleared the shelf in Jack's bathroom, he tried to imagine how it would be - Jack at the Pentagon, pushing paper and getting through the days, and Daniel in Colorado, pushing away thoughts of missing Jack and trying to get through the nights.   
Much as he needed Jack in the daylight hours, it was in the darkness that his need was visceral. He loved to rest his hand on Jack's back as they fell asleep, Jack turned on his right side because he could only sleep on his right side. Daniel loved sliding a foot across the bed and finding Jack's calf. Skin or cotton, he didn't mind what he was touching, just so long as it was Jack. Living, breathing, Jack. His Jack.  
  
Oh god. He couldn't do this. It felt too much like another loss. He didn't deal with loss very well. He shoved the pain down so far that it became locked down, fossilized. The pain of his multiple losses was now an artefact, and one he couldn't bear to study. So he focused on the contents of the shelf instead; Tylenol, mouth wash, band aids, anti-inflammatory cream for Jack's back and knees, herbal sleeping pills that had never been opened but Sam had given Jack when he'd been unable to sleep after Kelowna. The team looked after each other.  
  
The team. Still the team, even with Jack as General.  
  
His family.  
  
He wasn't just losing his lover here.  
  
Christ, but this hurt. Fuck Jack O'Neill that he should have been able to prize open that lost chamber of Daniel's hurt and shed a chink of light on this pain.  
  
He shoved the last of the toiletries into a bag and wandered back into Jack's bedroom. Their bedroom, whenever they could make it happen. The bed was stripped, the bedside cabinet emptied of lube and condoms and crossword puzzle books and Daniel's spare pair of glasses.  
  
Jack picked up the last of the boxes and stood in the doorway. Daniel fiddled with the bag of toiletries.  
  
They looked at each other. There was nothing left to say. It had all been said -- in bed as they loved, over late-night pizza, in seemingly light-hearted exchanges about the romance of long-distance relationships.  
  
Now, it came down to this. A life packed up in boxes and hearts that were heavy with love and longing.  
  
Jack smiled. He put the box on the floor and closed the distance between them and folded Daniel into a quiet, gentle hug. Not a bearhug. Not a "clinging on because I can't bear to let go" hug. Just a reassuring embrace. The hands that roamed up and down Daniel's back said, "It's okay. Really. Not an end, just an interval. Still here. Still loving you."  
  
He knew. Jack always knew what to do or say.   
  
Daniel relaxed into Jack's arms, let his own arms slide round Jack's waist, the way they always did. He tucked his head into the sanctuary of Jack's neck and breathed him in, turning his lips to lay a gentle kiss on the familiar skin. They rocked a little, said what they wanted to say without saying anything. Then Jack ran a hand over the back of Daniel's head and pulled away, smiling and nodding his head slightly.  
  
Jack picked up the box and left the room without looking back. Daniel took a deep breath and followed.  
  
Not an ending, not a beginning. Just another day.  
  
ends


End file.
